


The Perils of Avid Reading

by libbertyjibbit



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: A Leitner Made Them Do It (The Magnus Archives), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Biting, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Extra Treat, Guilt, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Pining, Rough Sex, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:34:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24689218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/libbertyjibbit/pseuds/libbertyjibbit
Summary: After surviving his encounter at Covent Garden by what he is sure was a very small margin, Danny goes to work for the Magnus Institute, hoping to find answers to what he saw. One day, fed up with his little brother's avoidance, Tim stops by to see him, and they both get a lot more than they bargained for.
Relationships: Danny Stoker/Tim Stoker
Comments: 24
Kudos: 61
Collections: Heat Fic Summer 2020





	The Perils of Avid Reading

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cinnamonjonnies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnamonjonnies/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Опасности увлеченного чтения](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25147870) by [evijuls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/evijuls/pseuds/evijuls)



> Written as a treat for cinnamonjonnies. I hope you like it!
> 
> So so many thanks to my beta. You are the absolute best.

“Don’t touch anything.”

Tim laughed. “You’ve said that three times. Do you think I’ll forget?”

“I think you don’t listen,” Danny answered, but he was grinning. “I also think you’d do it for a joke, and you really can’t here. A lot of this stuff isn’t –“

“Safe, yes, you’ve mentioned.” Tim rolled his eyes. “I still don’t understand why you want to work here. You, who always wanted to be out doing something, not buried in a dingy little basement.”

“Hardly dingy,” Danny said, gesturing at the well-lit, expansive room around them. “Or little. It is a basement though; I’ll give you that much.”

“It isn’t _you_. Where’s the fun, the adventure, the danger? You always said –“

“I told you,” Danny said, voice sharp. “I’ve had enough of it.”

“Enough of running around the world exploring? Danny, come on.”

“Is it so hard to believe that I wanted to stay near home? Maybe I wanted to spend more time with my brother.”

Tim raised his eyebrow. “You never want to spend time with me,” he said slowly. “You’re only talking to me now because I just showed up.”

Danny’s stomach dropped; his hands grew clammy and his face went hot. He turned away to hide it and busied himself with the inventory so that he had an excuse to keep his face averted.

Tim was quiet for a bit, then started in again. “So you want to be closer to me even though you never talk to me. Okay, fine. Why not? But you could be closer to me and work somewhere a little less…”

Danny sighed. “A little less what, exactly? Weird? Macabre? What?”

“A little less conspiracy theorist. Everyone knows what this place does. You don’t really believe in ghostsies and ghoulies, do you? I thought you quit with that stuff when you were a kid, like the rest of us.”

“You don’t understand,” Danny said, speaking mostly to the clipboard in his hand. “It’s not like that, it-“ he cut himself off with a shake of his head. “Forget it.”

“No, come on. Tell me. I want to know. I’ve wanted to know since you came back from the Royal Opera House and wouldn’t talk to me for days and then suddenly decided to work in this glorified storeroom for a bunch of loonies looking for proof of the paranormal-“

“Because it’s real! It’s real.” Danny’s hands clenched on the clipboard, making it creak. He forced his hands to relax and turned to face Tim, who was shaking his head. He nodded. “It is. It’s not ghosts, or vampires, or aliens, but there’s something. When I went to Covent Garden, I, I saw…” he stopped, mouth opening and closing, chest tight as he remembered. The dolls, dancing on their own to a crazy, disjointed melody that seemed to grow louder the longer Danny watched. The clown. It had almost touched him, that clown. One of those white gloved hands had been inches from his face when his odd paralysis had broken and he’d turned, run, got the hell out of there so fast that he’d left his camera and the tools he’d used to break in. He hadn’t spared a thought for them until days later, and by that point he’d already vowed never to go back.

But how could he tell Tim that? How could he describe the way it had felt to have the clown suddenly before him, mouth unmoving but still talking, sending awful thoughts into his brain like oil, leaving its greasy fingerprints everywhere? _Stay right there pretty,_ the voice had whispered, _let Joey take care of you. Become part of the show. Dance. Dance._ And he’d wanted to. He still wasn’t sure why he’d snapped out of it – there must have been some noise. Some sound that had broken whatever hold the place had on him. Whatever it had been, it had saved his life. He had a feeling that if the clown had touched him there would have been no hope. He’d have been lost.

He shuddered. “I saw something awful,” he continued, knowing that it was a poor explanation but unable to come up with anything better. Words were Tim’s thing, not his. “It scared me, and when I got out, I knew that I had to find out more about what had happened. This seemed like a good place to start.”

“Okay,” Tim said, dragging the word out. He clearly didn’t believe him. “But in that case, wouldn't a different department be better? You could work in the library. All those different books; whatever you saw has to be in one of them. Or maybe the Archives. Place this big has to have one of those.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “I’m not you. Besides, I wouldn’t fit in there.”

“Oh, bullshit. You fit in everywhere; you can’t help it.” Tim’s voice was fond. Danny’s stomach twisted. He didn’t want to glance at Tim’s face, didn’t want to see the expression of mingled love and pride that he knew would be there. He turned away.

“Well, this is where I want to be. If my brother could leave me be for two seconds to finish my job.” It came out snappier than intended, and there was a long pause where he could practically hear Tim trying to think of what to say, how to diffuse the sudden, inexplicable tension. Danny gritted his teeth against the apology that wanted to spill out and focused on the clipboard. He checked off an item without seeing the words on the page; all of his concentration was focused on Tim, waiting to see what he would say.

“I guess I should have called,” was what he finally offered, and Danny closed his eyes.

“I guess I should be less of a dick,” he answered, and Tim laughed.

“Well that, too. I’m sorry for ambushing you at work. I just – you’re in London, now, and I see you less than I did when you spent half your time in another country.” He sighed. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

 _Fuck_. “Look, why don’t you go back to the reception area. If you want to wait, I should be finished in about fifteen. Then maybe we can…have dinner, or something. Catch up.”

“Yeah?” Tim asked, and when Danny chanced a look at him the hopeful smile on his face made him feel even worse. He smiled back, resolved. He could do this.

“Yeah, definitely. It has been a while.”

Tim’s smile widened. “Great! Then I’ll head back and leave you to your inventorying of the strange and unusual.” He raised his hands and waggled his fingers by his face. “Oooh.”

“Keep that up and you can go straight home,” Danny said, but he couldn’t help smiling. Tim was such an idiot, he thought fondly, and his chest tightened.

Tim laughed and stepped around him, clapping him on the shoulder as he went. “Half an hour. If you’re not done by then I’m going to assume you got eaten by something back here and send in a search party.”

Danny rolled his eyes and twitched away from Tim’s hand. “Don’t-,” he started, and Tim flapped a hand over his shoulder at him.

“Don’t touch anything. I know, I _know_. I’m not five, Danny.”

“You act like it,” Danny muttered. He watched Tim walk away, couldn’t help it, his eyes eating up the strong lines of his brother’s back, the way his arse moved as he hurried off. Then he turned, and was blessedly out of sight. Danny sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. This was getting ridiculous.

He wasn’t sure when it had started, only that it had been years since he had been able to look at Tim and not want. If was easier when he was moving around. He could crash into Tim’s life for a few days or text him updates from a sunny beach in Brazil during a modeling gig and everything was fine. But anything more than that and he’d start to wonder what Tim’s hair would feel like in his hands, or how the skin at the base of his neck would taste if Danny were to put his mouth on it. How he liked to be touched, and whether he’d like it if _Danny_ were the one touching him.

Which was ridiculous. Of course he wouldn’t. Tim was his brother and he didn’t – he wasn’t screwed up like Danny. When he texted and called and showed up at the Institute, it wasn’t because he was desperate to be near him, to hopefully soak up enough of his presence to quench the need to touch. It was because the little brother he adored was finally putting down roots close by and he wanted to take advantage of that, to try to get back some of the easy rapport they'd had as kids while he could. Danny suspected that Tim thought this was another one of his whims and that he’d be off again in a few months, but he knew better. This was for keeps. Even without finding out more about what had happened to him, he liked it here. Liked his coworkers, liked his supervisor, he even liked the mundane parts of his job like inventory. He fit. He wasn’t going to leave.

Which meant that he _was_ going to have to deal with his issues, and soon. Tim was making light of it now, but it had been months since Danny had been back, months since he’d seen his brother for more than a few minutes, and he knew that despite the joking Tim was hurt. Why else would he skive off work early to ambush him? And the last thing that Danny wanted was to hurt him.

With no brother around to be too distracting for his own good, the inventory went quickly. Twenty minutes later Danny was dropping the inventory list on his supervisor’s desk and heading to reception to meet his brother, steeling himself for a night spent in his company. He’d take him to a pub near the Institute, he decided. Somewhere where they could have a few pints and a chat, and then go their separate ways. And he’d be better about seeing him regularly. Maybe they could make it a standing arrangement. He’d been going about this whole thing the wrong way, really. He should have been exposing himself to these feelings the entire time, and letting Tim’s obvious brotherly affection dull them, not hiding away until it became intimidating.

But Tim wasn’t the reception area when he got there. Danny frowned. He glanced at Rosie, but she was on the phone and not paying any attention. Then he checked outside. Perhaps Tim had gotten restless waiting. No Tim outside either. Worried, Danny went back inside, pulling out his mobile and thumbing to Tim’s name. He brought it up to his ear, but just as it began to ring he saw his brother coming into the lobby from the entrance toward the Archives.

Danny hung up and hurried over. “What were you doing?” he hissed. “Were you wandering around here? You can’t just – I thought you said you weren’t five.”

Tim blinked at him. “I had to use the loo,” he said in an odd, slow voice. “There was a novel. I guess I lost track of time.” He began to walk towards the exit and Danny fell into step beside him.

“A novel? In the loo?” Tim nodded. “And you lost track of time reading it.” Danny laughed. “I guess I should have known. Was it any good?”

“I don’t think so,” Tim said, still speaking slowly. “It was about wolves.”

“Sounds riveting. Just the thing to keep you sitting there for ages.” Tim didn’t smile. He wasn’t even looking at Danny; he was gazing down at his feet and frowning, as though he had to concentrate to put one in front of the other. Danny frowned too. “Are you alright? You sound off.”

“I’m fine. I just – I can’t believe I lost track of time. It was like –“ he cut himself off with a shake of his head. “I’m probably just tired. And hungry.”

“Speaking of,” Danny said, “I was thinking we could go to a place just down the street. A few of us go there for drinks sometimes after work, and the food is good, so…”

“Oh.” Tim stopped. “You want to go out?”

Danny stopped too. “You said you were hungry.”

“Well, yes, but I’m exhausted. I was kind of hoping for a few beers and some takeaway at your place, since I’ve yet to see it. But if you’d rather not…” Tim shrugged, but his mouth turned down a bit and Danny knew he was disappointed.

 _Fuck._ “No. No, that sounds great, actually. It’s about time you saw my flat, anyway. Although it’s nothing like your house, so don’t expect anything fancy.”

Tim grinned at him. “From you? Never,” he said, sounding like himself for the first time since he’d appeared in the reception area. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go.” He rested one of his hands low on Danny’s back, leading him out of the Institute like he might a date he was eager to get alone, and Danny’s whole body flushed with heat, but he didn’t move away, didn’t flinch from the burning press of Tim’s hand. _Have to get used to it,_ he told himself. _Have to remember he doesn’t_ mean _it, not like that._

They stopped at the Chinese that Danny always ordered takeaway from. Tim laughed when they called him by name and asked if he wanted his usual. He nudged Danny with his elbow while they waited for their order. Danny shot him a look and moved away. _Too close_. “You do cook, right? I mean, you know how?” he asked, and Danny flushed.

“I get busy.”

“Busy catching ghosts,” Tim said, and Danny clenched his teeth and took a deep breath. _He’s not trying to be a jerk, not really. It’s only teasing and you knew -_

“Hey,” Tim put a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. I’m just messing around. I just worry about you, you know?” Then he grinned and squeezed his arm. “Not going to be able to stay fit on takeout anymore.”

Danny pulled his arm away, feeling his face get even hotter at Tim’s words. “I still have a gym membership, you arse,” he said.

Tim laughed, pleased at having riled him up. “Yeah, yeah, you’re just as pretty as ever,” he said, and Danny didn’t know what his face was doing or what he might have said if their food hadn’t come out at that moment. _Exposure_ , he reminded himself, but the longer he was in Tim’s company the less he believed it was working.

Tim was delighted with Danny’s flat. “It’s perfect,” he said, turning a circle. The place was so small that it was pretty much all he had to do to see it in all its glory. Danny loved his job and the pay was decent but flats in London were ridiculous. Besides, it was just him and he didn’t mind being cramped. “Exactly what I would have pictured. Especially that,” he nodded towards the unmade bed in the corner of the room, and Danny felt his face grow hot.

“Shut up,” he said, and busied himself with plating their food, pretending that his stomach wasn’t turning summersaults at Tim’s words. _He didn’t mean it like that_ he thought for what felt like the thousandth time. _He’s not fucked in the head like you._

Danny didn’t have a real dining area, so they had to sit on his small sofa, eating bent over his tiny coffee table, knees brushing every time they moved. “So tell me about the job,” Tim said, nudging him lightly. “Are the rumors true? Is the boss a vampire? Do you catalogue by day, fight the forces of evil by night?”

“You’re not as funny as you think you are,” Danny said, but he was smiling.

“Oh, I’m _very_ funny, and you know it. You may have got all the looks in the family, but I got all the humor.”

“Yeah, well. With that face, you need it,” Danny said like he was supposed to, lying through his teeth. Tim was lovely. He never could understand why he insisted on pretending otherwise. “The job is…well. A lot is exactly what you saw today. Boring, mundane. But sometimes. I – we had this practical researcher. Smart, funny. You’d have liked her. She lasted three months. The stuff in there, it – it gets to you.”

“Sounds a bit psychosomatic,” Tim said, and Danny shook his head.

“No, it’s not like that. It’s real. Why do you think I was wearing gloves for the inventory? Why do you think I kept telling you not to touch anything? There are things in there that can burn you like acid, chairs that make you dream nothing but death. Books, even, that – Tim? Are you all right?”

Tim shook his head. He was pale and sweating, and his eyes when they met Danny’s were glazed over. “I think I – I don’t feel – I.” He twitched, suddenly, a full body shudder, and his eyes went wide. “Something is wrong.”

“Was it the food?” Danny asked, even though he felt perfectly fine. He glanced at their plates. Tim had hardly even touched his, it looked like, and he began to really worry. He reached out and placed a hand on Tim’s arm, then yanked it back as if scalded. “You’re burning up.”

Tim nodded. His was sweating hard now, hair growing damp with it, and he squirmed, reaching up to start undoing the buttons on his shirt. “It’s so hot in here,” he said, voice hoarse. “I need to-“

“You need to stop that,” Danny said, covering Tim’s hands with his own and ignoring the heat that was fairly seeping out of his brother’s skin. He shouldn’t be stripping down with a fever that high, Danny knew that much.

Tim moaned when Danny touched him, hips jerking, and Danny jerked his hands away from him, startled. “I-“

“No, no, come back,” Tim said, and grabbed one of Danny’s hands. He placed it on his chest; the shirt was parted where he’d managed to get a few buttons undone and Danny’s fingers brushed against bare skin. Tim gave another moan, closing his eyes. “It feels good,” he said, words slurring. “Cool.” Danny watched, transfixed, as Tim dragged his hand over his body, moving it over all of his exposed skin. He felt like he was sitting outside of himself watching his brother make soft, contented sounds as Danny’s hand brushed over each new patch of skin. It wasn’t until Tim started to drag his hand down to the waistband of his trousers that he recovered enough presence of mind to pull away, nearly falling off of the sofa. He stood and took a few shaky steps back.

Tim whimpered at the loss of Danny’s hand, opening his eyes to look pleadingly at him. “Please,” he said. “Please come back. It hurts.” He sounded nothing like himself at all, nothing like the man Danny had known his whole life, voice high and reedy and desperate.

“You touched something,” Danny said, the words seeming to come from far away. “Tim, what did you touch?”

Tim shook his head. He started to writhe against the sofa, pressing himself into it as if craving the friction against his arse. “You said don’t touch,” he said. “I listen to you. I always listen to you. Your voice, it makes me –“ one of his hands slid into his lap and began to rub; he twitched his hips into it with a soft noise. “Danny –“

“Tim, you have to listen to me. Something has done this to you, but I –“ Then he remembered and went cold. “The book. The one you were reading in the loo. Was the front cover stamped?”

Tim shook his head and moaned. “I don’t know, I don’t – please. Please, this isn’t working, I need –“ he reached for Danny with his free hand, the other still rubbing, rubbing. Danny forced his eyes to stay on Tim’s face by sheer will alone, although he could see Tim’s arm moving at the edge of his vision and was under no illusions about what he was up to. He wanted to look, wanted to go to that reaching, grasping hand, to touch the way Tim was begging him to, and he hated himself for it. Hated himself for the way his body was responding to Tim’s desperation, to his need. _It’s not him,_ he told himself. _It’s not him and he’ll hate you for this if you give in, and you’ll deserve it._

“Try to remember,” he said, and then, with sudden inspiration, he added, “If you tell me, I’ll touch you,” voice shaking slightly.

Tim’s eyes grew round and hopeful. “Do you promise?” he asked, and Danny nodded.

“Yes.”

Tim closed his eyes, frowning with concentration. “There was a book,” he said slowly. “It was about wolves. Their mating habits, I think. And it was – there were – and it was boring. I didn’t want to read it, but I kept –“ he bucked his hips. “It made me think about – things. Doing things. Fucking. Biting and sucking and – Lighter!” he shouted the last, startling Danny, who had drawn forward without realizing. He tried to step back, but Tim’s eyes were open and he caught Danny by the waist of his trousers, drawing forward. “It said property of Lighter or written by Lighter, something like that, now just –“

Danny gulped and covered Tim’s hand with his own. Tim gasped, body jerking, and Danny couldn’t help looking down. The dark stain spreading over his trousers answered his unspoken question, and he gulped again, looking away hastily. He met Tim’s eyes, and for a wonder they were clear.

“Danny, what’s happening to me?” he asked, and he sounded terrified. Danny stroked his thumb along the back of his hand in an attempt to soothe and Tim’s eyelids fluttered briefly.

“Was it Leitner?” Danny asked. “The name. Was it Jurgen Leitner?” He didn’t need to ask – he knew – but he asked anyway. He wanted the confirmation even if he didn’t need it.

Tim nodded. “Yeah, that sounds right. What is it?”

“One of the things I was warning you about,” Danny said. “Look, we need to tell someone, and get you sorted.”

“Yeah,” Tim said, drawing the word out, and Danny saw that his eyes were clouding over again. “You can – you can take care of me, can’t you? I want you to.”

“No,” Danny tried to pull his hand away but Tim had it in what felt like an iron grip. “Tim, I can’t do that. I can’t-“

“Yes you can,” Tim said, and suddenly his hand was between Danny’s legs, moving over the erection that he’d been trying to ignore. Danny gasped and yanked his hand out of Tim’s, taking several steps back.

“Okay, so you’re a little fucked up right now. But you can’t just –“

“You liked it,” Tim said, and Danny’s mouth snapped shut. “You want it. It’s okay. I want it, too.”

“No, you read something that makes you think you –“

“It didn’t make me do anything; I think about it all the time,” Tim said. “Your mouth on me. What it would feel like if you touched – I used to go into the guest room after you stayed over, crawl into the bed and touch myself thinking about you fucking me. God, please fuck me. I feel- I’m so hot, so empty, I can’t.” He slid off of the couch, onto his hands and knees, and crawled towards Danny, who felt rooted to the spot. He could do little more than stare, mouth open and panting, as his brother came to him. “You want me,” Tim said. “I know. You’re hard; I can see how hard you are. Let me –“ he rose up on his knees in front of Danny and gripped his hips, pulling him forward so that he could mouth at his cock through his trousers.

Danny cried out. His hands found their way into Tim’s hair and he was sure it was to pull his head away from him, but his body betrayed him and instead held him in place as his hips twitched into his mouth. Tim made a pleased noise against the fabric of his trousers and opened his mouth wider, sucking on the fabric and the cock beneath, making it damp.

“Fuck,” Danny said softly. He had to stop this. He had to, he couldn’t – he pushed Tim’s head harder against him, fingers curling. He felt too hot and almost drugged, outside of his own body as Tim’s mouth moved, as he undid the zip on Danny’s trousers with his fucking teeth and slipped his tongue inside. Danny’s knees buckled. “Tim, I can’t-“

“Please,” Tim said, and Danny looked down at him. His eyes were wide and desperate, and one of his hands was inside of his own trousers, where he was hard. Again. “Please, I need this. I need you. It’s so hot, I’m so hot, I can’t think, _please,_ Danny.”

It was the final please that did it. Danny sank to the floor with Tim, mouth finding his and hands sliding up his shirt to splay against his bare back. Tim moaned into his mouth and kissed back sloppily, practically crawling into his lap. “Yes,” he said, fingers sliding into Danny’s trousers and wrapping around his cock, stroking it. “Yes, please, yes.”

 _I’m sorry,_ Danny thought helplessly as Tim’s mouth moved down his neck and his hands stroked and stroked. _I’m sorry, please don’t hate me, I –_ Tim bit down on his neck and he gasped, pulling on Tim’s hair.

“Yes,” Tim said again. He pulled his hand out of his trousers and lifted it to Danny’s mouth. His fingers were shiny, wet with something that Danny couldn’t identify. “Taste.”

“I-“ Danny started, but Tim had already shoved his fingers inside his mouth, and he sucked almost without thinking. Whatever Tim had coated his fingers with was sweet, almost cloyingly so, but Danny found he liked it. He sucked harder, licking at Tim’s fingers, getting every trace of the stuff off of him. Tim cried out, grinding himself into Danny’s lap. “Fuck me,” he said, panting the words. “Please, please fuck me.”

It was as if a switch had been flipped. Danny clawed at Tim’s trousers, hands frantic, desperate to get him out of them. Tim tried to help but only got in the way, and Danny knocked his hands aside. He freed Tim’s cock with a triumphant noise, stroking it, loving the way that it made Tim writhe. But it wasn’t what he wanted – what they both wanted. He released Tim’s cock and pushed him off of his lap, ignoring the sound Tim made at the loss of contact. “Turn over,” he said, and it was him speaking but he’d never heard himself sound quite like that before, voice harsh and strained. “Now.”

“Yes, yes, please,” Tim said, and did as told, turning so fast he almost overbalanced. He balanced himself on hands and knees and wiggled his arse in clear invitation. “Do it, go on.”

Danny tugged his trousers down just far enough to bare his arse. He should take them off, he thought, but he was in too much of a hurry for that. _Later,_ he decided. Tim spread his legs as much as the restriction of his trousers would allow, trying his best to present himself to Danny’s hungry gaze. Something dripped down his thighs; the same slick that he’d pushed into Danny’s mouth earlier. Danny dragged a finger through the stuff and brought it to his mouth. Sweetness exploded on his tongue, and he moaned, eyes rolling. He could smell it, he realized. It made his mouth water, and he very nearly buried his face into Tim’s arse to get more of it. _Later,_ he thought again. _Time for that later_. He freed himself from his own trousers and gripped Tim’s hips, pressing himself up against him, sliding his cock against all that slickness.

Tim whined, trying to push back, to get Danny inside, but Danny wouldn’t let him. He held his hips in place and closed his eyes, savoring the noises that spilled out of his brother’s mouth, his broken pleas. He slid the tip of his cock inside slowly, torturing both of them with the glacial pace. Tim whined again, his hands scrabbling at the floor, arse clenching and unclenching around the tip of Danny’s cock. He held himself like that for a long moment, then slammed his hips forward, burying himself in Tim’s arse. Tim groaned loudly, half sobbing. He began to babble, words pouring out between soft grunts as Danny thrust in and out of him. “Yes, yes, please. Oh, fill me up, take me, take me. I need it, I need you, please.”

Filth began to pour from Danny’s own mouth. Things that he’d never said before during sex, things that he’d never even thought, but Tim seemed to like them, if the way he begged was any indication. Tim apparently wanted nothing more than to be filled, plugged up, taken over and over. Wanted to be turned into a mess of sweat and come and tears, and damned if Danny wasn’t intending to fulfil all of the promises his mouth was making.

“Going to fill you up,” he said. “Fill you so full you can’t think, fuck you so hard you can’t sit down. Fuck you and fuck you until you can’t stand, can’t move, can only lie there while I fuck you again.”

“Yes,” Tim gasped back. “Oh, yes, please. Use me, take –“

Danny’s hips moved faster, harder, filling the room with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh. He wasn’t going to last long like this, and he knew it. Suddenly he wanted to do something else he never had before. “I want – I – can I -?” he panted out, and rested his mouth against the juncture of Tim’s neck and shoulder.

“ _Yes_ ,” Tim said in a low, wrecked voice, and Danny bit. Tim jerked against him, howling, arse clenching hard around his cock. Danny bit down harder, needing something that he didn’t understand, and he came with the taste of his brother’s blood in his mouth.

Sanity didn’t return slowly, but crashed on him all at once, and Danny pulled away from Tim with a cry, body shaking. He stared in horror at his brother, at the come he could see leaking out of his arse, running down is legs along with the slick. At the mark on his neck, slowly trickling blood. “Oh my g-Tim, I’m so-“

“Don’t,” Tim said softly, tugging his trousers back up over his hips. “Just – I asked for it. I wanted – I should be the one to apologize. I –“ he laughed hollowly. “I begged you to. I begged my little brother to, to -”

“It’s not your fault. You – those books are – it’s not your fault.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.” Tim turned his face towards Danny but didn’t look at him and Danny felt something stab directly into his heart and twist. “Let’s just – it’s over now, right? We can pretend it never happened.”

“Oh, right, we’ll just ignore the fact that I maimed you, shall we?” Danny said. He reached out and touched his fingers lightly to the bite on Tim’s neck. “I don’t think it’ll scar, at least.”

Tim covered Danny’s hand with his own and pushed it down, pressing his fingers into the wound. “Then do it again,” he said, voice growing slurred and thick with lust once more. “I want it to scar. I want everyone to know I’m yours.”

“Tim,” Danny said, feeling his own body heating up again, cock twitching to life even though it shouldn’t be possible so soon after coming. _It can’t be affecting me_ , he thought, _I didn’t read it, I –_ but there was no mistaking the arousal winding through him, no way to deny the sudden need to bend Tim over the nearest surface and fuck him until he screamed. No way to deny the need to mark him up so the world would know just who he belonged to. It was every feeling he'd ever had for Tim magnified by a thousand, and he knew he couldn't fight it, not when Tim was asking for it. Not when he wanted it so badly. He could feel himself losing the battle against his body already, but there was just enough sanity left for him to gasp, “Only if you bite me, too. I want –“ _it to be even_ is what he meant to say, but what came out was “-us to belong to each other. Forever.”

“Forever,” Tim echoed, and leaned forward with his mouth already open.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed, please let me know. :)


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